Best weekend of our lives . . .
Closets thrown open after years of careful arrangement,
Drowning complaints of not enough time or too little in common.
Exasperating family members rendered comical in the early morning light of consciousness.
Fast forward to another Christmas, another year.
Guessing who or what will dominate the dinner table commentary.
Hating the shallow thought, “Next year will take the prize.”
Insinuating that somehow this year was less authentic, not as well lived —
A jive-talking jabberwocky moment of pretense,
A kaleidoscopic collage of disconnects and scullduggery . . .
Instead of the magnificent moment of happiness we know we shared.
“Nonsense!” I proclaim to no one in particular.
“Nothing shall overshadow this special edition performance.”
Proof positive that blood is truly thicker than
Quirky history and rocky beginnings.